February’s Kammer Klang sees the Dalston performance evening marching ever further away from contemporary chamber music and embracing an ethos of outright sonic performance theatre. The works presented by Jennifer Walshe and Distractfold Ensemble next week use musicality as merely one available limb of expression – even if many of the tools used are musical.

Witty, shapeshifting Irish composer-performer Jennifer Walshe was once described as “the wild girl of Darmstadt” (by ‘Frankfurter Rundschau’) Often hiding, Residents-like, behind the mask of the fictional ‘Milker Corporation’, she’s delivered nearly two decades worth of intriguing, award-winning work, from near-conventional instrumental composition to way-out self-performed video theatre more reminiscent of a larkier, less traumatic version of Karen Finley.

Examinations and implementations of pop culture have been a persistent creative motif for her. While this can be an embarrassing stumbling block for many a composer hamfistedly trying to ginger up high culture or elevate street culture (most of whom bellyflop soundly into the discomfort zone) Jennifer displays a thorough grounding and innate understanding of how this things can tick. This is clearly displayed in her lightning-switch pop-song collage ‘G.L.O.R.I.’, while her Snapchat-based interactive ‘Thmotes’ project (with its now-you-see-them now-you-don’t exchange of text scores) was but one example of her keen understanding of both how new forms of media operate and how they develop their own operational cultures. Inspired in part by televisual opera experimenter Robert Ashley, she’s also written miniature operas ranging from relatively serious chamber pieces about women in boxing or 2010’s focus-shifting ‘The Geometry’ to trashy X-rated soap scenarios played out by whispering, shrieking, hissing Barbie dolls.

As an intercontinental voice improviser, Jennifer’s co-run witty stunts such as the United Telepathic Improvisation Front; and for the last eleven years she’s exercised and presented a dozen different and distinct alter egos as part of the ongoing Grúpat project (a Dublin art collective of fictional “Guinness Dadaists” in which Jennifer herself creates, becomes and enacts every single artist whether exploring music, films, photography, fashion, sculpture or any overlaps between the forms – personae include grotto-builder Violetta Mahon, filmmaker Freya Birre, sculptor-of-instruments Turf Boon, psychogeographic drag queen multidisciplinarian The Dowager Marchylove and partially-fingerless concert pianist Flor Hartigan). Running through all of this (alongside of the exceptional media savvy) is a riotous stream of Irish absurdism – it’s unsurprising to discover that Jennifer cites Flann O’Brien and the “Irish openness to subterfuge” as spurs to what she does.

Her Kammer Klang performance this time involves her 2016 composition ‘There Was A Visitor’ – of which the title may be a nod to Ashley’s ‘She Was A Visitor’, and which is mostly a compression/selection from another ongoing project of spoofing/serious fictionizing, ‘Historical Documents of the Irish Avant-Garde‘. In some ways a more historically-inclined cousin of Grúpat, ‘Historical Documents…’ is a made-up history of the Irish avant-garde, complete with its own foundation and voluminous archive of compositions, documents, academic articles and sundry ephemera. Jennifer apparently performs it within the context of “a Dadaist Halloween séance”, which she also describes as “a sort of mangled faith healer experience with optional audience engagement.”

(UPDATE, 5th February – for some reason, it seems that Jennifer’s now dropped her scheduled performance of ‘There Was A Visitor’ and replaced it with ‘Is It Cool To Try Hard Now?’, a 2016 composition “for voice, video, electronics and Artificial Intelligence”. There’s not much more information available on this one, other than that it was first premiered at the Jamjar Music Weekend in Belfast – it’s not even listed on the Milker site. If you can find out anything more about it, you’re a better, quicker browser than I am… what the hell, go along and be surprised…)

Manchester’s Distractfold Ensemble (curators of their hometown’s Cut & Splice Festival) will be presenting three pieces, including the evening’s Fresh Klang opener – a performance of Barblina Meierhans’ ‘May I Ask You Something?’. The latter is, in effect a semi-dysfunctional conversation for orchestra: an arrangement of inter-band mutters culminating in an eerie array of distracted frictional instrumental squeaks and a number of uncomfortable silences.

Of the other two Distractfold presentations, ‘Circling Blue’ is a 2010 tape piece by Swedish sound artist Hanna Hartman (for which Manifold members will be handling the sonic diffusion). Originally commissioned by Swedish radio for a themed programme on Nordic forests, it’s an electroacoustic work for the captured sounds of swirling winds and beating rain plus the recorded and stretched notes of soprano Ida Falk Winland.

The last presentation, ‘The Man Who Couldn’t Stop Laughing’ is a piece of music theatre for amplified quartet and tape playback: a segment of Japanese-American electro-acoustic composer Steven Kazuo Takasugi’s five-movement ‘Sideshow’ sequence. Inspired by the crueller, more exploitative aspects of Coney Island entertainment parks (and drawing its section titles from a set of bleak aphorisms by Karl Kraus, the mordant cultural gadfly and satirist of early 20th century Vienna), the piece is “a meditation on virtuosity, freak shows, entertainment, spectacle, business, and the sacrifices one makes to survive in the world”, in which the instrumentalist perform as if they were “characters in a sideshow. The saxophonist is the Sideshow Giant, having bellow-like lungs. The violist is a sword swallower, expert with a bow sword. The pianist is the Human Spider, having been born with eight hands. The percussionist is the Stuttering Midget and Sideshow Proprietor/Announcer. Each character of this quartet has his or her uncanny double, twin, imposter, accomplice, copycat, deformed clone.”

Strange taped sounds (worked up from Takasugi’s algorithmic processing from his extensive library of recontextualized sonics) plus intense individual performer silences and motions add to the uneasy, surreal and grotesque atmosphere. Reviewing a previous performance in 2017, Stephanie Jones of ‘Sounds Like Now’ observed that it “suggested that the audience (was) masterminding a highly uncomfortable human puppet show… (which) captivated and cradled the audience on thematic pivots such as humour/cruelty and freedom/torturous restraint, while the playback ensured that the performance itself blurred the lines between illusion and fact.”

Well, actually this is the next-to-last gigs post of the year (I’ve still got to do the second round of Christmas parties). Apologies for terseness and excessive recycling of press-release blurb, but there’s a lot to pack in both here and elsewhere this month.

About half of these gigs are seriously avant-garde concerts for the London Contemporary Music Festival, with even more of a blizzard of links and odd video clips than usual. This particular flavour is a part of what ‘Misfit City’ does, but it’s not for everybody, so I’ll stash those down at the bottom of the post. That said, I’m starting with a couple of full-on jazz or electronic improvising gigs, so what I’ve ended up with is an unorthodox concert sandwich: the tough stuff at the top and the bottom and the easier, sweeter more tuneful stuff packed into the middle. Hopefully it will be easier to swallow that way. Scroll right down for news of the LCMF gigs at the start of the week, if you’re eager to catch them.

Walthamstow’s newest (and only?) regular night of experimental/noisy/generally interesting music, returns with sets of bracing electronic experimentation from Phantom Chips and MXLX(the amazingly prolific Matt Loveridge, aka Fairhorns, Team Brick, and one third of BEAK>, among others), as well as the MNFN DJs playing ’til late.

For our last gig of 2015 we return to Hundred Years Gallery in Hoxton, for the second edition of our dice-and-hat improvised music night. We held the first one in July to celebrate our second birthday, and it was so much fun we decided to do it again. As before, a nebulous ensemble of UK improvisers will gather to make spontaneous music together. This time the list looks like this:

Taking inspiration from long-running Manchester night The Noise Upstairs (founded by Anton Hunter and Tullis Rennie, no less), we will put all the players’ names into a hat, throw the dice to determine how many musicians will play, and then draw out the names. The result is lots of mini- sets from often completely new combinations of people! (Some groups from last time have decided to carry on playing together too: Tom Ward and Adam Fairhall are now collaborating on a new quartet for 2016 after their hat encounter in the summer).

Do join us for this last gig of the year – it’s been a blast, so let’s see it off in style! Entry, as usual, is one Bank of England note of your choice.

Singer-songwriter GRICE is something of a hidden treasure: the owner of a sweet, yearning, swooning voice and the writer of heart-on-sleeve songs of love, faith and regret which he’ll wrap in anything from grand Pink Floyd soundstaging, acoustic intimacy, glitch electronics to buttery prog-soul . Based down in the West Country, he’s bringing the music of his first two albums – ‘Propeller’ and ‘Alexandrine’ to a full-band December gig in Exeter. To give you an idea of the ambition of the records, they’ve featured a studding of art-rock talent – pedal steel master B.J. Cole, touch guitarist Markus Reuter, ‘Baker Street’ saxophonist Raphael Ravenscroft, multi-instrumental producer Lee Fletcher, Egyptian percussionist Hossam Ramsay and restless polymusical talent O5ric – with the more recent ‘Alexandrine’ boasting extensive input from Steve Jansen and Richard Barbieri (both ex-Japan). See below for a taste of the live show.

It’s clear that the instrumental inquisitiveness of the three players in The Aristocrats can’t be contained or satisfied by their high-profile jobs as virtuoso rock sessioneers. In and out of a career as eclectic all-genre guitar commentator and instructor, Guthrie Govan has played for pomp-prog veterans Asia, for Steven Wilson and (in several genre swerve) for EDM mash-up project The Young Punx and hip hop star Dizzee Rascal. Bass player Bryan Beller has rumbled alongside assorted Frank Zappa alumni, been part of a literal cartoon band (Dethklok) and holds down the low end for instrumental metal guitar virtuoso Joe Satriani. Drummer Marco Minnemann overlaps both of his bandmates via gigs with Wilson and Satriani, has followed both Bill Bruford and Terry Bozzio in UK and has rattled along with Beller in metalcore punk/jazz fusion band Ephel Duath.

With that kind of collective pedigree you’d expect the kind of extreme burnished technique that’s found at the intersection of metal and prog, and you get it in spades. The Aristocrat’s instrumental rock fusion is packed with the spiralling festoonery, profound harmonic vocabulary and blizzarding speed of Allan Holdsworth; the leathers, hairstyles and bright tonal sheen of shred guitar and hair metal, and (possibly above all else) the polymorphic compositional swagger, virtuoso blurt and dirty-joke song titles of Frank Zappa.

This kind of stuff is Marmite music for sure. For every person bowing or happily moshing at the altar of The Aristocrats’ skills, there’ll be someone else sneering about technique-elitism, lack of soul or the perpetual hairy adolescence of metal (or making mean-spirited jokes about the Guitar Institute of Technology and acronyms). However, it’s a mistake to square off The Aristocrats and stick them into a handy box. After two albums of circus tricks and power-trio rock-outs, the band is stretching out, experimenting with layering, transcending their initial rock-audience pleasing. Most importantly, the improvisation which has always been a part of the band is also expanding, heading out into the realms of conversation and risk. There might still be a wide gap between them and say, the last few Miles Davis bands, but it’s starting to close.

An interesting – and welcome sign – of The Aristocrats’ broadening and development is their choice of support act. The Fierce & The Dead have been making their own waves in the same instrumental prog and metal ponds as the headliners, but although both bands touch in similar territories they’re coming from different places. The Fierce & The Dead are a much rougher-edged proposition than The Aristocrats, and it’s part of their charm: any one of their pieces is likely to sound like a hundred jewelled prog scarabs swarming over a vast chunk of gnarled punk wood, gnashing away. See below for evidence.

Something happy and breezy now. Sara Spade sings, plays ukelele and (backed by crack acoustic duo The Noisy Boys) charges up and down nearly a century of popular music, cheerfully bending it to her will. Cases in point – “acoustic versions of George Michael’s ‘Faith’ dancing happily beside flapper & prohibition tunes, calypsos like ‘Rum & Coca Cola’ and ballads like ‘Secret Love’ from the 1953 movie ‘Calamity Jane’.” Sara also writes her own bubbly jazz-pop originals, one of which is here (with a video which, on evidence, I suspect was filmed on rooftops only a few streets away from ‘Misfit City’ HQ. It certainly looks the way that the summertime looks around here. If I’d been out and about on the right day, I could have tossed them a rose or something…)

Alt.rock and art rock diehards, please note that that’s Jonny Mattocks on the drums… yes, him who used to be in Spacemen 3, Spiritualized and The Breeders, and who seems to be having a pretty good time here. The other Noisy Boy is do-everything double bass player Jonny Gee. Sometimes ubiquitous British jazz guitar ace Rod Fogg joins in. Everyone sings.

I don’t generally go for cover bands very much; but bands who reinvent their stack of crowd-pleasing repertoire are a different matter, and frequently a guilty pleasure for which you should just drop the guilt. Sara’s wowed Jools Holland, Bestival, the British aristocracy and Hank Marvin, and you may greet this particular news with delight or horror… but either way, why should we let them keep her to themselves? It’s up to you, but an evening in her company seems like a good way to spend the last Saturday before Christmas.

* * * * * * * *

And to close, here’s that run-down through the remaining London Contemporary Music Festival concerts.

We present the world premiere of a monumental new work by sound artist and recordist Chris Watson. Drawing on extensive underwater recordings gathered by the artist from oceans around the world, ‘Okeanos’ – a multi-channel sound installation that will play in complete darkness – celebrates the songs, rhythms and music of the oceanic depths.

In an attempt to shift our perception of what opera can do and be, we present a second instalment of ‘To A New Definition of Opera’, in which performance, video art and neglected modernist opera rub shoulders. Alongside a new commission from British performance artist Sue Tompkins, the night will include composer Tim Parkinson’s apocalyptic anti-opera ‘Time With People’ (performed by the University of Huddersfield’s edges ensemble) and Los Angeles-based artist Ryan Trecartin‘s dystopian film ‘CENTER JENNY’.

The centrepiece of the evening will be the UK premiere of Karlheinz Stockhausen’s celebrated ‘Pieta’ from ‘Dienstag aus Licht’, with the voice of Lore Lixenberg and flugelhorn of Marco Blaauw. Interlaced throughout the evening will be an extremely rare performance of excerpts from Ezra Pound’s troubadour opera about medieval ne’er-do-wells, ‘Le Testament de Villon‘, which critic Richard Taruskin called “a modernist triumph.”

‘A Martian Sends A Postcard Home’ takes its name from a poem by Craig Raine that sought to re-see the world through bold acts of defamiliarisation. This night celebrates the Martianist turn in music, with an exploration of composers who have made the familiar fresh.

The night will include the European premiere of Norwegian composer Øyvind Torvund‘s lawless chamber work ‘Untitled School/Mud Jam/Campfire Tunes’, performed by the Plus Minus Ensemble, and Andrew Hamilton‘s electrifying ‘music for people who like art’. In ‘Mezcal No. 8’ Swedish composer/performer Hanna Hartman transforms a copse of steel rods and washers into a sounding presence.

We honour two standard bearers of “making strange” in composition: Helmut Lachenmann and Dieter Schnebel. Aisha Orazbayevaperforms Lachenmann’s ‘Toccatina’ alongside a recital of Russian poems by Mayakovsky and Yesenin that live and breathe the idea of estrangement or ostranenie. Meanwhile, composer and musician Christian Kesten‎ presents Schnebel’s celebrated ‘Maulwerke’ where vocal technique is pulled apart into its constituent parts, alongside his own ‘Zunge Lösen’ that seeks to stage the tongues of three performers.

Artist Tino Sehgal takes on the body, intellectual property and materiality itself. ‘Instead of allowing some thing to rise up to your face dancing bruce and dan and other things’ is his earliest “livework”. It sees performer Louise Höjer transformed into, in the words of ‘Frieze Magazine’, a “hydraulic android”.

The night ends with a visit from Cairo’s E.E.K. Under the fingers of Islam Chipsy (accompanied by drummers Khaled Mando and Islam Tata), a digital keyboard is wrenched into explosive new sonic territory, articulating the sound of post-Tahrir electro-chaabi.

Some call it post-internet art: others “the New Aesthetic”. Whatever the name, there’s no doubt that the internet has scrambled the way we think, see and listen. Yet if art has placed this new paradigm at its heart, we are only now beginning to distil what it means for musical composition.

One pioneer of musical attempts to understand how things are changing in the digital shadow is Jennifer Walshe. The final night of LCMF 2015 will see the UK premiere of her latest, major one-woman work ‘Total Mountain’. Two further UK premieres arrive from Germany. Berlin-based Neele Hülcker investigates (as does Claire Tolan) the online phenomenon of autonomous sensory meridian response – or ASMR – in her work ‘Copy!’, while Brigitta Muntendorf explores the YouTubed bedroom in ‘Public Privacy No 2’.

The flight from reality captured by this post-internet music is not new. Serialist trailblazers like Milton Babbitt got there first with works such as ‘Reflections for piano & synthesized tape’. The hyperactive, networked aesthetic of Walshe and others, meanwhile, was foreshadowed by Jacob TV in ‘Grab It! Both are performed tonight.

As an occasional collaborator with London-based collective PC Music, Felicita‘s music is one in which the tropes of pop’s most commercial statements are accelerated, amplified and brought riotously together into a language that, if satirical, is also wildly inventive in its own right.

We conclude and project into the future with the long-awaited UK return of James Ferraro, whose 2011 album ‘Far Side Virtual’ is an essential post-internet text. For his forthcoming release ‘Skid Row’, Ferraro turns his attention to contemporary Los Angeles, a kind of “hyper-America” where violent realities are obsessively mediated and reproduced.